


Shadows of Romance

by Soaraus



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soaraus/pseuds/Soaraus





	1. Shadow

Mel skipped and danced down the crowded streets of the city. She heard people’s chuckles as she passed, but she didn’t mind them. Any attention was good to her, it meant that people were watching her show. She smiled to herself as she approached a crosswalk. Then she stopped dead in her tracks.  
Across the way was a person with short peach-colored hair and bright, sad eyes. Mel blushed. She knew instantly she had a crush. She bit her lip as she slipped through the crowd to get nearer to the cute person. She could grab anyone’s attention, she could surely draw the eye of her new-found crush.  
The person kept a tight grip on their bag as they walked. Mel followed a respectful distance behind, mimicking their mannerisms. She poofed her top hat away in a puff of shadow and quickened her pace to walk next to her crush.  
They didn’t notice her. Mel frowned. She glanced to her crush, and let her shoulders droop. What to do? This person didn’t seem the kind to like a big fuss made, but all Mel was, was a big fuss.  
The crowd started to thin, so Mel distanced herself slightly from her crush. She followed behind them like a slinking shadow. They went into a fresh food market, so Mel followed.  
She distanced herself even more, wondering whether or not to buy a bouquet while she was there. Wouldn’t that make a grand show? Mel giggled to herself; it would be rather romantic wouldn’t it?  
She shook her head, no. This person wouldn’t like that. Would they? Mel didn’t know what to do. She kept following around her crush like a shadow, but she wanted to demand their attention.  
Then she realized something; no one ever notices their shadow.


	2. Greeting

“Hello,” Mel paused for effect, ¨And welcome to my humble show.¨ She bowed dramatically, smiling.  
Her fingers danced through the air, pulling shadows into being where light seemed to prevail. The shadows shifted and swirled into shapes and figures that pranced through the light, defiant of its beams.  
Mel’s gloved hands drifted apart and away from the shadows, weaving them into a fanciful story of a knight and his princess. The shapes were both definite and formless, in a way that made the audience hunt for the next scene. Mel especially loved that trick, for it kept their eyes glued on her.  
She pranced across the stage, pulling her story with her. The shadows grew and grew, blocking out the light. Gasps came from the audience when the theater became completely shrouded in shadow. Murmuring voices gave way to worried breaths and nervous rustling.  
After a long, dark pause, Mel’s voice boomed through the theater, “Now, now dear audience, don’t be afraid. Every knight has their dragon to face and their fears to fight!”  
With that, the shadows condensed into a fearsome dragon that seemed to be as real as the stage itself. It opened its mighty jaws, and Mel gave it a mighty roar.   
The audience shrieked with fear and amusement as the dragon beat its wings, sending tendrils of darkness into the crowd.  
Mel sat behind the curtains, weaving her story, her show, into reality. Suddenly, she burst forth with a shining fan with silk made of mist and confronted her terrible creation.  
“I need no saving from my knight,” she cried, “for my soul is of equal might!”  
She danced across the stage, slashing at the dragon with the blade of her fan. Every move was elegant and graceful and smooth and vicious. The dragon’s mass faded away, until only swirls of shadow remained.  
The light cast the final blow, vanquishing the once mighty beast.  
Mel took center stage and bowed, flashing her fan to the audience.  
Uproarious applause graced her finalé, leaving Mel to shout goodnight, before fading behind the curtains, as delicate as a shadow departing from the light.


	3. Foreclosure

Mel stomped around backstage moodily. She mourned that she had been forced out of her house, and that no one was around to see her pouting.  
She kicked a spare prop that someone had left out with her pointed boot. It wasn’t fair! Acting wasn’t easy, and it certainly didn’t pay well, but Mel was a good actress. She deserved her house!  
Though, she supposed it had been a while since she had paid her loan. She frowned. It still wasn’t fair. She’d have to live in the theater now. That couldn’t be too bad could it? It’d certainly give her more time to practice.  
Speaking of practicing, Mel had a musical she was putting on. She started humming the main tune, walking through the choreography as she walked. She skipped and pranced across the backstage; her humming slowly grew to singing.   
Soon enough, she was belting out her songs as she danced around the empty theater until she heard a soft, gentle voice, “Hello?... Who’s there? You sing so beautifully...”  
Mel almost answered honestly, but she had a thought. She sang back, “I am your Angel of Music.”  
The voice hidden in the theater giggled, but persisted, “Who are you? Where are you?”  
Mel cleared her throat and deepened her voice, “Flattering child, you shall know me. See why I hide in shadow.”  
“You’re singing the responses out of order,” the voice chastised.   
Mel humphed and struggled to think of the Phantom’s response to such an accusation. After a long pause, she shouted and sang, “Ignorant fool!”  
The voice chuckled, and Mel swore she could hear the patter of barefeet on wood, “You’re running out of lyrics, aren’t you? I’ll leave you be.”  
With that, the theater went silent, and Mel was left to ponder her newfound position as the ghost of her theater.


	4. Dancing

Mel pranced through the puddles in the middle of Public Square, kicking up water as she danced gracefully. Her moves were fluid and harsh all at once as she danced to music only she could hear.  
A crowd had slowly gathered around her as she danced in the rain with the tails of her vest flowing behind her, enhancing her joyous romp. The crowd offered soft applause as Mel twisted and turned in a show of glee.  
She danced for the crowd and for the crowd only, relishing in the attention. A grin played on her lips as she closed her eyes and lept through the water gathering on the ground.   
A lonely musician started to play a tune in time with Mel’s dance, and she adjusted her style to fit his. She sang along without words, only a beautiful stream of syllables that somehow showed more emotion than actual lyrics. 

A lone girl in a yellow dress danced to the music in the back of the crowd, braid swishing behind her as she danced. She danced since no one was watching. Her hands swayed and her fingers moved gracefully through the air as she told a story without words. She danced for the joy of dancing and she danced for her own peace. It was seldom that this girl allowed herself to express her passions.  
Suddenly, a gloved hand brushed on the girl’s and she was pulled into another world. She was pulled into the limelight. The girl froze, while the music continued.   
Opposite the girl in a yellow dress was a person clad in greys and blacks and reds, dancing with a vest flowing behind them.  
The person opposite the girl offered a name, and a gloved hand, “I’m Mel, love. Won’t you join me?”  
The girl swallowed and cautiously took Mel’s hand. She started to dance through the puddles as well, following Mel’s lead. Eventually, a smile formed on the girl’s lips as she realized that it was still as if no one was watching. No one in the crowd knew her.  
The girl took the lead as her confidence grew, and Mel soon fell in step with the girl’s swaying movements.

 

After a long day of dancing, after the crowd had left and the music stopped, the couple finally stopped dancing.  
Mel bowed to her partner, “It was a pleasure dancing with you, yet I don’t know your name?”  
The girl in the yellow dress and hair tied back in a braid stood tall, and replied in a confident voice, “My name is Kylē.”


	5. A Single Touch

The sky was bright and happy as Mel, Kylē, and Kylē’s friend walked down the street. Mel had only just met Kylē’s friend. His name was Arek. He seemed alright, very talkative though. Mel could live with that; she loved to talk, but Kylē didn’t. So Mel stayed quiet.  
Mel and Kylē walked close. Mel mimicked Kylē’s reserved, confident walk. Her hand brushed on Kylē’s, and not for the first time. Kylē flinched away, distancing herself slightly from Mel with a cautious side-eye. Mel sighed. She liked Kylē, she really did. But the secrecy and subtlety was hard. Mel thrived on publicity and attention. But she would persevere. She would for Kylē.  
Arek was talking about a new song he was writing. Kylē only pretended to not care. Mel knew that she really did love hearing Arek talk about his music though. She guessed Arek knew too. There was a sudden flash of jealousy-- Arek knew Kylē longer and better than she did. What if Arek was more important? Oh, who was she kidding. Of course Arek was more important to Kylē than her. They were childhood friends. Mel was just-- a woman she met on the street.  
There was something in Mel’s hand. She didn’t notice it at first; she was rarely this introspective. Mel looked down. It was Kylē’s hand. Kylē was holding her hand! Mel bit her lip and looked at Kylē. The couple shared a knowing glance, Kylē’s expression unusually sweet.  
Arek glanced back and smiled. It was about damn time they did that.


	6. In a Theater

Kylē stepped tentatively into the musty old theater. She had found it a few weeks ago while going for a drive looking to be alone. She was looking to be alone now as well.  
Murky light filtered in through old, once-beautiful windows. Kylē made her way confidently through the lobby and held her breath as she approached the entrance to the auditorium. She sighed and smoothed her braid over her shoulder before pushing the double doors open to a cascade of dust. Sputtering, she floated through the dust cloud and down the aisles, her dress fluttering around her legs. Her bag was concealed under her coat; she prefered it that way. The familiar weight of her notebooks and journals was comforting, but a closely guarded secret.  
She scanned the worn, empty, velvet seats. It was out of habit as much as out of curiosity. She needed to make sure she was alone, but something about the derelict nature of the once majestic theater felt… Welcoming.   
Kylē looked down at her feet as she walked down the old wood stairs. Her heels seemed to shatter the reverent silence of the place and she wished she would’ve worn flats. It seemed sacrilegious to disturb the dust and quiet of the place, but Kylē was determined to be alone, and what better place than a theater without actors?  
She paused in the middle of the aisle and chose a row of seats to her left. She found a seat in the middle of the row and pushed the bottom down, brushing it off in the process. She sat down and took off her coat before pulling out her poetry notebook and a fountain pen.  
She put the pen to her lips, searching for inspiration in the dust-heavy light of the theater. Then, as if answering Kylē’s wish, a shadow graced the stage. Kylē sat up straighter and narrowed her eyes. She thought she was alone. She closed her notebook slowly, focussing on the stage.   
The shadow danced to center stage, as if it was performing for an audience. The shadow paused and Kylē could see definite features begin to emerge. An upturned nose. Round, beautiful silver eyes. A thin-lipped smile. Kylē’s eyes traveled down. A tightly laced corset under a vest with a flowing train. Red-gloved hands…  
Kylē gasped. She knew this shadow. And it had a name.  
“Mel,” she breathed.  
Mel turned at the faint sound of her own name, her heels tapping against the wooden stage. Her smile spread to her eyes when she saw Kylē and she held out a hand, “Would you join me for a dance? I’d love to have a second chance, to dance with the woman whose dancing made me gasp.”  
Kylē’s breath caught in her throat. Why did she have to speak in verse? She set her notebook and pen aside and stood up, fixing her dress. Mel waited patiently on the stage, hand still out for Kylē to grasp.  
Kylē closed her eyes and steeled herself. She made her way to the stage, accepting Mel’s hand. Mel was surprisingly strong as she pulled Kylē gracefully onto the stage. Kylē only just noticed that Mel stood at least six inches taller than her, even though she was wearing taller heels.   
“I didn’t think you’d remember me,” Kylē tried to keep her voice flat, “That was so long ago.”  
Mel put her hand on Kylē’s hip, “How could I forget a face like yours? With eyes that the sun abhors, for not even it could match such golden majesty. To have forgotten you would have been a tragedy.”  
Kylē blushed furiously, and hoped Mel didn’t notice. She put her hand on her partner’s shoulder and fell in step with her. They circled each other in a slow waltz that evolved into a faster paced tango.  
Their heels clicked in time to imaginary music as Mel and Kylē spun across the stage, their dance growing increasingly complex and dramatic. Kylē’s smile grew as her inhibitions fell away to the steps of the wonderfully freeing dance.  
Her dress whipped around her legs as Mel’s vest wrapped around the pair. They danced and pranced across the stage, Kylē’s braid falling free of its tight weave. Her hair flowed behind her as she spun and twirled in Mel’s arms.   
The sound of their feet against the floor made its own music as they danced to the empty theater’s silent applause.


	7. Loneliness

A sheet of music floated down from the once-grand chandelier of an abandoned theater. 'Does she love me?'  
Another sheet fell, settling not far from the first. Does she need me?  
A shadow stood up, papers fluttering down to the floor as her heels clicked against the rim of the chandelier. The shadow sighed as she watched her sheet music fall, imaging the falling papers to be unwritten love letters from her lover.  
The sun had come to Earth and her name was Kylē. And she seemed to have no care for the moon, whose sad silver eyes glimmered with tears. Mel danced around the branches of the chandelier, trying to find words to fill the empty theater.  
Mel took a deep breath as she dove off of her perch, singing as she fell, “Does she really care?”  
Her hard heels barely spoke as shadows surrounded her and led her safely to the ground. She looked dejectedly at the mess her music had made. There was no fixing this. Mel didn’t matter. She was as she always had been: alone.  
She was alone in her empty theater, no audience or cast. She was alone on her walks to the store, her closest friend had long since left to find adventure somewhere else. Why did she stay?  
The lights in the theater flickered as tendrils of smoke drifted from Mel’s empty hands. What did she expect to find here? What future did she have in an empty theater with no company but the shadows of life that she created?  
She herself was naught but a shadow. She lived behind everyone else, always taking her own meaning from them. She wanted adventure, but wouldn’t chase it and now she wanted love, but she couldn’t seem to find it.  
A tear stained her cheek. Mel lifted a gloved hand to wipe it away delicately as her thoughts surrounded her, shrouding her and her theater in darkness. There was no light but her own pale luminescence. She was completely and totally alone.  
Mel knelt down to gather up her music, careful to not let her quiet tears smudge the ink. She was wholly unsuccessful. The air had become thick with smoke and shadow, blurring Mel’s vision more than the tears gathering in her eyes.   
A feeling of worthlessness - of nothingness - ate at Mel’s insides, making her feel sick, as sobs stole her breath. She was helpless to do anything. People left her. People left her because no one has any care for their shadow. No one has any care for their shadow when they can instead look to the light shining on them. And oh does the light shine on Kylē…  
Mel was merely the shadow cast by Kylē basking in the light. She swallowed her pride and tapped the sides of her sheet music to even them out. Kylē could be cold and distant. Maybe it was time for Mel to do the same.  
She could finally see why Kylē was so callous. Her cheeks were chilled by her tears while her eyes burned. Invisible hands wrapped around her throat, trapping her voice and her emotions deep inside of her. Perhaps to be cold was to take away the icy bite of her own sadness. Perhaps to be distant was to merely see the shadows instead of being a part of them.  
Mel looked down at her music; circles of smudged ink obscured the once clear notes like the tears that obscured a once clear voice. Mel looked up to the high ceiling of the theater and let out a long cry that would’ve broken the stoniest of hearts. And her cry was an arrow that met its mark.  
Kylē stood in the doorway of the hazy theater, a single red rose held delicately between her tattooed fingers. Her painted lips were agape and her artfully shaped eyes glistened with emotion on the brim of overflowing. As soon Mel’s silvery eyes fell on the face of her stricken lover, her cry was silenced.   
The red rose fell from Kylē’s fingertips as she walked, seemingly in a trance, towards Mel, who stood numb in the center of her cloudy theater. Before Mel could realize what had happened, she felt strong arms around her waist and a cold breath against her shoulder. Taken aback, Mel’s music fell once more, papers scattering like feathers as they hit the floor.  
For a moment, and only a moment, Mel couldn’t return Kylē’s embrace. She didn’t deserve to. She was just a shadow, just a passing thing in someone’s life who already had so much light. But the moment passed, and soon Mel was holding her light just as tightly as Kylē was holding hers.   
Nothing was said. Nothing was done. But suddenly, Mel didn’t feel quite so alone.


	8. Poetry

Kylē smoothed her dress and checked her hair and makeup one last time in the mirror. Her makeup was subtle, her glinting piercings contrasting her matte lipstick. The golden roses on her ears stood out against her dark complexion. She was an elegant juxtaposition, with a graceful dress hiding her holstered pistols and a full face of makeup hiding her battle scars.   
It had been quite a while since Kylē had gone on a date. She couldn’t remember the last time she allowed herself to fall for someone. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. This was the first time in a long time that she had allowed herself to be vulnerable with someone. It was time to see if that was a mistake.  
There was a knock at the door. “Kylē,” Arek called from the living room, “Your date’s here.”  
Kylē left the bathroom and strode into the entryway past Arek, “Hush.”  
Arek smiled, “You can’t hide her from me.”  
Kylē tried to remain emotionless, expressionless. But to no avail. A frown broke through her facade.  
Arek offered his friend a nervous laugh, “I’m definitely not the person for dating advice or whatever, but I really think you should answer the door.”  
Kylē scowled, but chuckled. She went to open the door to find Mel holding out a blush-pink rose.  
“Good day Kylē, I was wondering when you’d answer me,” Mel smiled and clicked her heels together, “I’ve been looking forward to tonight, lovely. There is so much for you to see.”  
Kylē took the rose and held it for a little while, examining the petals thoughtfully.   
She could just close the door.   
She had done it so many times before.   
Though it would seem a tad amiss,  
If Kylē were to leave Mel without a kiss.  
She shook her head and tucked the flower into her carefully braided hair, “What do you have planned tonight?” Kylē wasn’t too pleased that she hadn’t planned anything. It was better- or easier?- when she had control. Around Mel, it seemed like all of her control slipped away.  
Like leaves,  
Twirling to the ground.  
Dancing with such graceful ease,  
As the plummet down, down…  
Down.  
Kylē took a breath. This wasn’t a time for poetry. Or was it? She looked into Mel’s eyes. Her smiling, silver eyes.  
“It will be a surprise, my dear.” Mel noticed Kylē’s apprehension and tried to soothe her, “There’s no need to worry. I’ll be right here.” She smiled and laced her gloved fingers with Kylē’s.  
Kylē tensed at first, but quickly relaxed. Mel was safe to be around. At least, so Kylē hoped.   
“Well I can’t wait to see what you have in store,” her tone was flat, but she was being sincere. She was actually excited to go out on a date. A date that stemmed from a fluke of fate, leading her to that square. Mel dancing in the nighttime air…  
Mel giggled and pulled Kylē out the door, “Well what are we waiting for?”  
Kylē fell out the door and into a twirl, led by Mel who was still giggling. She heard a faint call from Arek behind the closed door. She couldn’t quite make out what he had said, but it sounded a lot like, “Remember to enjoy yourself.”  
“Now, I must confess,” Mel stopped giggling and offered Kylē a shy smile as they walked down the path to Kylē’s door, “Being an actress has few benefits. I walked to meet you, and I’d rather not walk to our date too.”  
A hint of laughter played on Kylē’s lips, “So you pick me up for our date, and you’re asking me for a ride?”   
Mel’s moonlit gaze fell to the ground beneath their feet. Kylē nudged her, “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll just have to take my motorcycle--”  
Mel looked at Kylē, grinning, “Was that a rhyme threatening to escape? I’d say I’m rather impressed. But you write poetry don’t you? I must digress, you’re okay taking your motorcycle out, yes?”  
Kylē wasn’t sure whether to glare at Mel are laugh. It ended up being an odd combination of both as the two went to the garage to get Kylē’s bike.   
“It has a name, doesn’t it?” Mel ran her hand over the sleek form of the Suzuki, marvelling at its silhouette.  
Kylē mounted her bike fluidly, offering a hand to Mel to pull her on, “Of course she does.” She kicked her bike to life and rode out of the garage, reveling in the wind in her hair and love in her heart.  
Mel shouted to be heard over the engine and the wind, “Well won’t you tell me then?”  
Kylē avoided the question with one of her own, “Tell me where to go. Since I am the one driving.”  
Mel humphed dramatically, making Kylē smile. After a few moments of theatrical silence, Mel provided the directions to their destination.  
Trees and shops flew by the couple as they rode down the streets of the small magic town. Sharp turns followed by long stretches of road took the two out of the town and into the countryside. Purple magic and small crowded shops faded into expanses of nothing but golden grains and the green haze of growing-magic.   
Kylē was never fond of the countryside, but the swirling colors of life were alluring to say the least. Mel’s arms around her waist gave her a sense of ease as well, but she still didn’t like not knowing the destination.  
“Where the hell are you taking us?”  
“Have a little faith,” Mel put her chin on Kylē’s shoulder, “I assure you, it’s the perfect place for our date.”  
Kylē didn’t respond. She tried to focus on the road- the journey- in front of her. The wind passed over the fields, making the grain ripple like waves on the ocean. The thought made Kylē’s heart swell. Perhaps the country wasn’t so bad.  
“Here!” Mel raised a gloved hand to point at a quaint diner sitting on the edge of the road.  
Kylē pulled into the small lot and cut the engine. There were three other cars in the parking lot. Kylē scanned all of them before dismounting. No one was sitting in their cars. Mel got off the bike gracefully, her heels clicking on the asphalt. She offered Kylē her arm, who gave Mel a dubious look before accepting it.  
The two walked into the diner, arm in arm. Mel was radiating joy, but was keeping it well contained. Kylē caught the glint in her eyes, and a smile rested on her lips. It was an odd feeling to allow herself to emote, but Mel seemed to draw her emotions out of her.  
Mel politely asked the hostess for a table for two, and they were quickly given a table by a window. Kylē sucked on her lip ring. Windows meant exposure. She glanced around the diner. Everyone was either enjoying their meals or chatting up the waitresses. There was no one to be spoken of outside, but Kylē was still uncomfortable.   
She sat down anyways, a callous expression replacing her previous smile. Mel took Kylē’s hand in an effort to comfort her, “It’s alright love, we’re out in the country, far from anyone who would hurt my dove.”  
Kylē sighed, and tried to allow herself to relax. Her pistols sat hidden under her dress, a reassuring weight. Mel let go of Kylē’s hand to look over the menu. Seeing Kylē hadn’t yet done the same, she quietly suggested, “Why don’t you take a look at the menu, instead of searching for someone who might hurt you?”  
A dainty hand quickly flew over Mel’s mouth, her eyes wide with regret, “I’m sorry, I--”  
“It’s true. You don’t need to apologize for saying so,” Kylē shook her head, “and I’m not worried about myself.”  
Mel’s moonlit stare softened, “If you say so, I do feel bad for saying it though.”  
Kylē sighed and a slight smile played on her lips, “There’s nothing to feel bad about.”  
Mel grinned, her eyes sparkling. Kylē smiled as well, allowing herself to feel happy. Allowing herself to feel love. The two sat in silence; words were not necessary. Kylē reached toward her gun, and pulled out a pen instead. She began to write the thoughts that swam through her head. The only paper she had was the napkin on the table, so she wrote as well as she was able,  
'Her eyes sparkled,  
With starlit grace.  
Her eyes sparkled,  
As delicate as lace.

They held the moon,  
With beauty that couldn’t be outdone.  
Mel’s eyes held the moon,  
And my own held the sun.'


End file.
